


show me how to live

by orphan_account



Series: Somebody to Love [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Open Marriage, Past Child Abuse, Recovery, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It doesn't have to end in blood and tragedy for the Baptist of Holland Valley."You have to love them, John."He can learn.





	show me how to live

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoMoMomma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/gifts).



"You sure about this Kim? 'Cuz once you invite him over it's not like we can un-invite."

Fingers tap on the radio box, mouth piece held limply by Nick as he watches his wife contemplate, chews her lip with a twinge of anxiety before her face shows her confirmation with whatever argument she just had in her head, and nods. He trusts her judgement more than he trusts anyone else, but even right now... he has his doubts. Their baby babbles from her high chair, bits of green pea mush flying up when her little hands smack down onto the table with a high pitched squeal of delight at her own mess.

"I think so. But you should be the one to contact him."

Nick nods, holds the mouth piece up, and tunes it to John's frequency.

"John Seed? Hello? It's Nick Rye. You there?"

His heart won't stop pounding in his chest. There's a beat of silence before a crackle, and John's voice fills their living room.

"Nick, Nick, Nick! What a surprise! Have you  _finally_  come to your senses?"

Nick scratches the back of his head and glances at Kim, who waves her hands in a pushing motion to urge him.

"Well... no. Uh, listen, John, I think you should come over so we can talk. It's mostly Kim's idea, and- ow!" Kim gives him a sharp jab to the ribs with her elbow. "I think we should discuss... uh, things."

John sounds smug when he talks, and Nick wants to cuss and tell him to forget it.

"And what kind of  _things_  would we be discussing?"

"Come over at 6pm and find out." Nick briefly panics, shuts the radio off, and turns to Kim with a smile as if to say "I did it!" His wife smiles, shakes her head before turning to the oven to get food ready for their guest.

 

Nick can't ever seem to be the type to hold still. Six o'clock rolls around, Kim starts setting the table and their baby is well dressed, but Nick is on the verge of vibrating under his skin from nerves as he waits on his front porch. A white truck pulls up, driven by two of John's men, and Nick has a moment of sheer panic when he realizes they're in a mounted vehicle. 

With a creak of the old truck's door hinge, John comes out of the back of the truck, his hands open in a mock-happiness to see Nick. 

"I didn't think you'd bring friends," Nick grumbles before greeting his unconventional guest.

John smiles, turns to his men and waves them off with a cheerful quip of heading back to their posts. Nick watches them glance at one another before one meekly utters a "sir?"

"I don't like repeating myself, Mitchell, now  _leave_." Nick flinches before taking a deep breath at John's harshness to his own men, but offers a weak wave to them anyways before the two in the truck drive back out to the road and continue business as usual. John is all toothy grin, canines flashing, and the bright blue glint in his eyes sends a chill down Nick's spine. He reminds himself that Kim can be trusted, she knows what she's doing, always has been his better half for a reason. He feigns a smile to John, tries to be a half way decent host, but he knows the other man is seeing right through the fake smile and a raised eyebrow quickly confirms it.

"Kim's inside, would get us out of this weather." Nick watches one of the trees lose a few leaves in the chilled Autumn wind as he says it, desperate to look at anything except the man he wants to punch more than anyone else. John's smiling, but a tap to his foot and tightness to his features show an impatience below the polite, lawyer visage. Grey clouds are starting to roll in to finally bring rain to an over dried county.

"By all means, lead the way, Rye."

The smell of food hits John's nose before he's even inside. There's a quick glance in the kitchen before his stomach drops and he lets out a small  _"oh"_  - vegetables, meat, potatoes - all set onto the table in front of him. Kim turns away from her baby for a moment to give John a nervous smile.

"Are you hungry?"

"I..." John wants to bolt. He's used to bribes being desperately offered in exchange for him and his people leaving them alone, some going so far as offering to drop to their knees and suck his cock, all being waved away and ignored for his devotion to The Father - or so he claimed. But this? This wasn't a bribe. He knew the Ryes were beyond bribing, too prideful, too greedy in what was their's. So his brain, used to half-hearted attempts at affection, panics when anyone but his brothers show it, responds in an almost short-circuit at Kim's question. He's suspicious, curious, almost expects to see Nick holding a gun to his head when he turns around, but when he does, Nick is all smiles and unarmed (that John can see).

So John hesitantly takes his jacket off, places it over the back of the couch, and does what he's good at: he hides behind a lawyer mask of professionalism and confidence, shielding himself from anyone who dares to climb over his walls that aren't Jacob or Joseph.

There's a chair next to Nick at the table, putting John a whole Nicholas away from Kim, and two people between him and the baby, but she's still babbling and a big gummy smile at John. He can't help but smile back before he catches himself - it doesn't go unseen by Kim.

A quick prayer is said before plates are filled, their guest allowed his portions first, John scoffing when Nick comments "that's all you're eating?"

"If this is about the baby stuff..." John doesn't trust his voice any further, instead opts for filling his mouth with Kim's cooking, which, he will  _have_  to get the recipe for the roast, because it melts in his mouth and is almost  _sinful_. So he goes for seconds instead of finishing his sentence, and this time it's Nick's turn to scoff.

"When you have a community that cares, they do things for you without expectin' anything in return." Nick's voice has a slight hint of 'fuck you' to it that John's gotten good at deflecting, but there's a tone to the sentence that John can't pick up on, and before the air becomes acrid with their glaring at one another, Baby Rye lets out a happy squeal and bounces in her high chair. It catches John's attention instead, and this time he can't hide the smile when he realizes she's making grabbing motions with her hands at  _him_ and not her daddy. He can't say it doesn't do something for his ego.

"Are you done with being up there, kiddo?" Kim stands to pick her up and check her dress to see if she ruined it. She gives a quick "I'll be back" before leaning in to Nick's ear. John pretends he doesn't hear anything, but the way Kim asks Nick to  _be nice_  in a whisper before taking Baby Rye into their bedroom causes him to tense and hold his fork just a bit tighter.

"Now," John props his elbows on the table, lets his fork drop with a clang against the plate, presses the pads of his fingers together, grimaces a bit at Nick's continued efforts to ignore him. "What did you invite me into your lovely home for, Nick?" 

"You're looking at it." Nick says with no effort to make eye contact. "Kim wanted to feed you."

"She... what?" John's eyebrow raises, lips tight in a sneer. "I don't need to be  _fed_  like common  _vermin_." 

"No one's sayin' that." Nick's voice is calmer, hoping to deflect John's anger before it bubbles up and he winds up wearing the mashed potatoes he helped his make with his wife. "Kim and I wanted to do this, John. When's the last time you even had a decent meal?"

Not since that damn Deputy banished him from Holland Valley, that's for sure.

"Well... thank you, then. I should be on my way." John goes to stand, but Nick puts his hand over John's arm, not to grab, only to keep him still for a moment, and John jerks like Nick burned him. 

"Let Kim talk to you. You don't have to stay, just, let Kim talk. She's better at this than I am. We want you to stay." Nick hovers his hand over John's arm, carefully watches the other man's suspicious glare, but it's enough. John relaxes back into the chair, eyes never leaving Nick's, as if wanting to read his mind, trying to get any lying or trickery out of his head before John finally nods an okay and waits with a twitching foot. Nick scratches at his chest, a common habit since he had  _GREED_  tattooed crudely into his skin, whenever he was reminded about John or his nerves got the better of him when it came to his family. 

Here goes nothing. Here goes  _everything_.

 

 

"You need clean clothes if you're going to stay." She holds out the dirty blue velvet in her hands, the only clothes he could salvage when everything went completely wrong. "Nick should have some spare jeans that should fit, if you want."

He could argue, but fuck does it feel  _good_  to have someone do things for him. So the fake smile he's learned to wear over the years of his blood-stained life comes over his face, turns the charm on, and lets Kim wash his clothes. Nick refuses to leave them alone - John couldn't blame him, considering he told all of the Valley that he and Kim conceived Nick's daughter behind his back, but the cautious glare still irks him, stirs something inside him that he wasn't sure what it was, a foreign emotion that implanted in his chest and ached below the scar that exposed his worst sin below his prominent collar bones.

Seeing John's back made both Kim and Nick tense up - his body is tattooed and scarred, that was expected given considering his affiliations, but when he turns to pick up a towel, shirtless, Kim can't rip her eyes away. Diagonal scars, some healed and smoothed from time, some more prominent and jagged, along his shoulder blades and criss-crossing in the middle, erratic patterns like claws against his skin. Nick remembers the story that Rook had told him, when he came to their home after escaping John's bunker, how his parents were the first ones to teach him "the power of yes." They laughed about it, poked and prodded fun at John, calling him loco, a drama queen - looking at the scars in person now, what two people could do to a child, made him feel sick.

"He didn't lie." Nick whispers to Kim once they heard the shower turn on. "We thought - we thought it was bullshit."

 

A click of a lighter, a quick inhale of breath, and a slow exhale of smoke - picking cigarettes back up wasn't exactly Joseph's preferred method of handling failure for John, rather wanted him to pray for forgiveness, prove his worthiness again - but,  _fuck it._  He couldn't help the people of Fall's End, of Holland Valley - the Deputy stole his home, turned it into some perverse Resistance hole for him and that damn idiot Hurk Jr. Blew his damn bunker up, to rub salt in an already deep wound to his pride. He's had enough of throwing his fists into anything that could break under him, enough bruised knuckles, cut hands, enough self-inflicted gashes into his body, it was all he knew. If he wasn't hurting himself, he could hurt others - because that's how parents taught kids to be correct. That's how this fucked forsaken world handled conflict - always with violence, wrapped up in a pretty bow labeled "love" to fool themselves. So now he stands in the empty hangar of one of his greatest enemies, stares at Nick's beloved  _Carmina_ , and a bed offered to him in their home, a warm shower... and his mind  _reels_  from it. 

His hair's still wet, strands hanging in his face and a spare shirt of Nick's hangs loosely around him.  ** _Rye and ~~Sons~~  Daughter_**, Kim had laid it out for him, his shirt and vest somewhere that she refuses to tell him. He stares for a moment up at the darkening sky, his obnoxious "YES" sign a testimony to his narcissism visible from the hangar, watches the rain hit the trees around them, eyes the wreckage of one of Eden's Gate helicopters near Nick's runway behind the water barrels. Either a warning to any more from the Project who try to attack, or a symptom of Nick's laziness to pick up the rubble. 

"This is what you want, John? You're safe?" Joseph's voice came through the radio next to where he had hoisted himself up onto the bar in the hangar, bare feet dangling under borrowed slightly-too-big jeans.

"It is."

"You know where to find me." It's a hint of disappointment, but after everything, at least having his brother still acknowledging his existence is... something.

"Yes, Joseph." 

There's a long pause of uncertainty in his response, nervousness and melancholy mingling in the air. It's a familiar breath to John, always the same tune, never really been the type to find a happy end to his life.

The brothers sign off their respected frequencies and John takes a drag before footsteps into the hangar catch his attention. Nick briefly glances in John's direction before tensing, memory response to seeing him, heads in his direction on unsteady steps. The strange feeling in John's chest is back, twinging just below his  _sloth_  marking, and he shifts uncomfortably on the counter and drags his nails across his skin.

"You all good?"

"The hell do you think?" It comes out a snarl before John can stop - the ache in his chest worse than ever, Nick flinches and something in John  _snaps_.

"I failed. I let my brother down, I let The Father down, while you and that little uprising won, took everything from me. I had my brothers! I was a leader! I was respected!" His voices raises with every word, and Nick's fists are tight at his sides, ready to fight if he needs to. "That Deputy took  _everything_  from me!"

"John."

"No! I had it all taken from me! My own brother won't even look me in the eye! So why you and Kim? Why now? After-"

Hands grab John before he can finish, pulling him forward and Nick's arms are around his shoulders, pulling John so his face is tucked into Nick's neck, sweat and cigarette smoke mingled with the smell of soap in Nick's beard. He's almost pulled off the counter, and for a moment Nick just grips his shoulders as John  _freezes_.

"I wanted to kill you, asshole." Nick snarls against John's neck. "After you had the fucking nerve to tattoo me, and then knock my best friend out and tattoo  _wrath_  on him? Yeah, I wanted you dead. But then everything went tits fuckin' up, you fucked off out of Holland Valley, and Kim had enough. We had enough of watching you, how incapable you are of just calming the fuck down for five minutes. Just stay, John, let us help you."

He's repeating parts of Kim's conversation, her words more gentle than Nick's harsh growls, making John promise to "leave the cult shit outside" if he agreed. John's hands are gripped in the plaid of Nick's shirt, face buried and breathing through clenched teeth, but Nick has other ideas, pulls John's head back by his hair and grips his neck.

John's eyes are wet, pinched tight by anger, his mouth in a sneer, but he's not letting go of Nick's shoulders. 

"I'm not some stray mongrel you can pick up off the street."

"You're not, and we're not."

"And then what, Nick? What happens in the future? You turn me in? You hand me over to the Deputy and his resistance to have me killed?"

"We keep trying until you can fucking learn that it's okay to be here with Kim and I."

Okay,  _that_  catches John off guard, his grip slacks on Nick's shoulders as his hand rubs his arm.

"Okay, John? Stay."

John's long forgotten his cigarette for the man in front of him, an old enemy, the ache in his chest overwhelming. He puts his forehead to Nick's, a sign of affection he understands, but Nick tenses at it and grabs John's wrists.

"Come inside, man. S'warmer in there."

For once, John lets Nick lead.

 

To everyone's surprise, John stays, even when he thinks his welcome is long gone. But Nick and Kim tell him over and over that it can be two weeks, a year, however much, he's staying, so he does. The Ryes fall into their normal routine and John spends most days working out in the hangar on Carmina ("I swear to god if you fuck with her I'll kick your ass" "I wouldn't  _dream of it_ , Nick") as well as periodic check ins with his brothers, primarily to keep Jacob from getting too worried and showing up in Holland Valley on a war path to look for him in Resistance outposts.

There are nights when the dreams are too much, memories and John's complex PTSD settling in, that are especially rough, accompanied by his bad days when Kim keeps the baby closer or Nick notices the distant look in John's eye when he holds the wrench a little too tight while in the hangar with him. There's no talk about anything related to the cult permitted on the property, no preaching about Greed or other sins were allowed, but occasionally Kim would find small droplets of blood leading into the bathroom, followed by sounds of John hissing and cursing under his breath accompanied with a bandage unwrapping and a limp once he's out of the bathroom. Those days Kim only smiles at him, adds an extra spoonful of food to his plate, while Nick keeps a hand on John's lower back to keep him grounded when he feels like he's crawling out of his skin.

It's one particular night that makes Kim realize it's all been worth while.

Russling on the spare bed, tossing and turning while his body convulses around another sob and his forehead breaks out in a sweat, John works through his nightmare like he's losing a fight, and it's only when a hand gently grabs his shoulder that he jerks with a gasp, Kim holds his arm and keeps her baby tucked into her hip. 

"You're okay. It was a nightmare. You're okay."

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Kim thinks at first he's still asleep, but then John sits up, holding her hand tight, but not enough to hurt, wraps his hands around her midsection and pulls until his forehead rests against her stomach, into the soft flesh from her post-pregnancy.

"I'm sorry. For everything. For stealing the baby stuff, for having everyone think your daughter is mine... I'm sorry, Kim."

John looks up, eyes still wet from the nightmare, holding Kim's waist in his hands. Kim's used to the smug arrogance that is John Seed, over confident and a vicious bloodlust always bordering him, hands ready to strangle at a moment's notice should anyone tell him no. But this? This is a new man, broken, knocked down a few pegs from their daughter's god father stopping him in his tracks before he could slice into Nick's skin. 

Kim leans down, kisses the top of John's head, and sighs into his hair. His shoulders slack a bit from the gesture of affection, hides his face that he knows is bright red, afraid she'll see in the dark what a kiss from  _her_  does to him.

It's not a rejection of his apology, not an acceptance either. It's a start. John drops his hands when he huffs out a short laugh just as the baby gurgles at him at reaches her hands out.

"Go back to sleep, John." 

 

Nick and Kim aren't secretive with their affection towards one another, or the baby. Nick's baby talk with her makes John roll his eyes, Kim's kiss to Nick's cheek before he takes off to help Deputy with whatever leaves an ache in his gut. But he notices more and more how blatant they do it in front of him, and he starts to pick up on the intentional  _love_  shown in front of him. He pretends he hates it, wrinkles his nose at Nick when he kisses Kim, but there's an underlying element that Nick and Kim pick up on that goes unspoken, when John leans into Nick's hands when he touches him or how his ears turn red when Kim kisses his cheek, but their agreed favorite is when John's eyes light up, for just a second, when their daughter garbles at him and smiles her big gummy grin. It's a reminder to them that John is human, broken and scarred, mistakes and horrible decisions and all, in this county of chaos. That, and there's something endearing watching John Seed hold a baby to his chest, smirking when she grabs at his beard and pats his nose with curious tiny hands. It took Kim time to not be nervous with seeing a formal enemy hold her child, but watching his protective hands hold her to his shoulder.

So imagine the moment of absolute shock when the fucking  _Deputy_  strolls into the Ryes' home like he owns the place, and sees John in the kitchen, dressed in Nick's fucking clothes, with his fucking goddaughter in the same hands that permanently marked him with  _WRATH,_ with Kim standing there like he's holding the baby  _fucking hostage_  and-

\- and John is just  _asking_  for a bullet to the head.

" ** _PUT HER DOWN_ _!_** " Rook roars, bellowing at the last word and drawing his shotgun at John. He turns to the door for the briefest of seconds, yells for Sharky and Hurk (because what better way to give John a migraine is having to deal with tweedle dee and tweedle idiot) and turns just as Kim grabs his arm, shouting for him to _wait, it's not what it looks like, it's_ okay _, put the gun_ down _, **Rook**_  - 

He doesn't realize how tightly he's holding the tiny human in his hands until she wriggles uncomfortably and wails for her mom, and the distraction is all Rook needs to take three long strides, puts his gun to John's temple and orders him to give the baby to Kim before he paints their kitchen with his brains. Kim grabs for her daughter and all John can see is red, red,  _red_ , like the soldiers Jacob trains, like the blood he wanted - still wants - to spill, when the rage becomes too much, when his heart won't stop fucking hurting and the ache in his chest feels like fire.

"Deputy, wait, please, wait!" Rook doesn't hear, can only see the absolute rage on John's face, the gun held to his head, Hurk shouting something about "holy fucking SHIT!" behind them while Sharky is already loading his shotgun-

Nick's hand flies around, grabs the gun before Rook pulls the trigger, steps between John and Rook before anything happens.

"Damnit, Dep! Hold on! Me and Kim - we have an arrangement-"

"Your new fucking babysitter is a great choice, Nick! What the fuck!" 

Kim holds her daughter tight as John watches her run up the stairs from his spot in the kitchen, he knows his teeth are bared, this fucking Deputy and their infectious  _wrath_ , everywhere he goes is a trail of bloodshed and anger, fuck him for ruining this, for making Nick choose-

Fuck him. Fuck him!  _Fuck him!_

"Dep, fuck, let us explain - Hurk put that fucking DOWN in my house, man! - it's okay! This is okay!"

 **"What fucking part of this is okay?!"**  Rook has his gun down, but he's backed away from John in case he lunges. "Did you forget what he did to us?! To Hudson?!"

John's gripping the kitchen counter's edge with both hands behind him, trying to restrain himself, focus his energy elsewhere, digs his fingernails into the counter until they bend back and sting, but he's gnashing his teeth, staring daggers at Rook, shaking with absolute rage. He won't take them from him, not after everything, when he finally has something good other than his brothers - when he lov...

He jerks forward, shoulder-checks Rook who tries to grab at him, but Nick stops him, lets John leave and slam the door behind him. Nick knows he won't leave the property, too risky without radioing his men first, too big of a target on his back - but John needs out, wants to throw up, or bleed, or - fuck, something, because  _that word_  just came to his mind, and for the first time in years he's fucking scared --

The ache in his chest won't fucking stop. Kim's terrified face, the baby, Nick stepping in to protect him. Him! They were  _enemies_! 

His fists slam against the metal toolbox in Nick's hangar before he can restrain himself, knocking it over and sending tools flying. He hits metal again, and again, and again, until his knuckles bleed and his fingers are cut from various tools slicing into him (pain after pain  _after pain!_ ) ruining the old English font tattoos on his fingers, erasing his affiliation - his devotion, to Eden's Gate, one hard-as-he-can punch at a time against metal, then concrete, and finally throws the tool box aside with all of his strength, snarling and pulling at his hair until he hears Nick yell his name and hands grab his shoulders as they fall to the floor.

He's bleeding, grabbing at fabric, at Nick's legs on the cement, having a fucking temper tantrum because of that fucking human embodiment of Wrath! He won't let him take Nick and Kim away from him! Not after everything! 

Hands grab his, pulls him until his back is flush against someone's broad chest, and immediately Nick's voice is in his ear,  _it's okay. I have you, calm the fuck down, John. S'okay..._

His body finally stills, chest rising and falling in desperate attempts to get air in, Nick's on the floor with him, pulls John into his lap and grips his wrists to make him still. Thunder roars outside like John's white hot rage, and he swears if he could control the weather, he'd end those three right then and there where they stand in a stampede of lightning and hail.

Nick's voice is in his ear, trying to calm him, gripping him tightly and John can't help it, the only way he knows how to show affection because that's all humans are good for, fucking and fighting, victims of their sin, he grabs Nick's face and shoves his lips against his, wants to give Nick just another reason to push him away, but Nick twists him around to get a better angle, kisses him back and whispers "s'okay. Kim and I agreed. It's okay." and shoves John back against the floor of the hangar. John's hands are still bloody, bruised, will probably swell tomorrow and make helping around the property difficult, but it's a pain he can focus on, and Nick's lips feel too fucking good, he's thought about them before when he had his bunker, his home, when he first met Nick, before he let envy get the better of him. Sin incarnate, jealous and lustful, wrathful and too prideful and greedy, wore sloth like a damn medal-

 

_You have to love them, John._

 

His brother's words echo in his brain when he grips at Nick's scalp, just a little too tight, hears Nick groan as he mingles his blood in Nick's hair, kisses harder, deeper, lets Nick grind against him before Nick pulls away and John sucks in a breath.

"I should sleep on the couch out here tonight."

Nick laughs, actually fucking laughs despite everything that just happened, and lets his head thump against John's chest.

"Kim told Rook everything. He won't tell anyone if we tell him not to."

John stares up at the hangar ceiling while gripping the back of the navy blue t-shirt Nick practically lives in, doesn't want to let go, if he lets go, Nick will leave...

"Please don't go."

"Shit, John, you're fuckin' bleeding-"

"There's a med-kit by your safe. It's just blood."

Nick is, actually, not the worst person he could fall asleep on, on the old couch in Nick's work space, after he carefully bandages John's hands, works around the cuts and scrapes, careful of bruises. It's not deserved, John knows this, but the ache never seems to go away, rooted in his chest and radiating through his bones. 

So he grips Nick tight, lets his mind drift, grazes his hand over where Nick's chest is inked with his sin, swallowing back tears ready to boil over.

"I was wrong." He traces his hands over Nick's chest. "I was wrong, I was so wrong..." Nick's good heart, his love of protecting his family, it isn't greed at all. John was the greedy one - always wanting to take, receive, selfishness and wanting to inflict pain on everyone for his own satisfaction. The ache finally bursts and John sobs as Nick wakes up to hands clutching onto him.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong. I'm sorry- I'm-" John's shoulders heave with every force of tears and Nick grips onto him, sits up and pulls John with him until he's straddling Nick, whispering apologies into his neck with every rock of his body, hands refusing to let go despite the raw skin.

Nick says nothing, lets John finally -  _finally_ \- let it all go. 

"S'okay, John." Another kiss. He won't take it further - not yet, not until Kim has the chance to set her boundaries - but it's a start, and Nick hasn't kissed anyone other than Kim in years, hasn't even kissed a guy since his late teens, but this? This is new territory for him. John goes slack against him, and fuck, Kim was right to want to feed the guy, he's lighter than Nick thought he'd be, lanky and lean, muscular but not enough, slim in the waist and broad shoulders showing off his physique. 

"I'm sorry..." it's whispered against his neck, half awake and muttered, but Nick hears it, finding himself sliding his hand up John's back, feeling the roughness of his scars and just letting John fall asleep on his old couch and him.

They'll move forward tomorrow.

 

John wakes up first when he hears a camera click, followed by a stifled giggle. He looks up through strands of his hair fallen in his face to find Kim with a camera in her hand, blinking owlishly at John and trying her hardest not to laugh.

"Hi-- I'm sorry! You two looked so cute, I couldn't resist. I won't tell anyone."

John slides off Nick's lap, composes himself and smiles at Kim.

"That's for you only, darling." He smirks at her and heads to the house to clean up and fall asleep in a bed, leaving the couple to talk about yesterday.

He's already mentally preparing to be tossed out, labelled a burden, a failure, a danger to their daughter and a magnet for Wrath & Friends to wreck havok on their property. When he's out of the shower, sporting fresh bandages on his sore and swollen hands while only in a pair of Nick's too-big sweats, Kim is waiting in the hall, and a smile on her face that surprises him. He tries to speak, hates how gravelly his voice is, but pushes anyways.

"Kim, I'm sor-"

"I know you are." It's stern and drops a bomb in John's stomach -  _please don't send me away, don't turn me away or hate me again_  - "Nick and I... we aren't happy with the freakout yesterday, especially in front of Baby, but... you're trying."

He is. He's trying to be better, he doesn't want to disappoint or lose this. He's always cared about the Ryes, but failed to show it, acted foolishly, childishly, but right now with Kim standing in front of him, even when he has a good foot on her, he's never felt so small.

She steps forward until she's close to his chest, full view of scars and ink, reaches up to trace her fingers on the decorations of his body, and for a moment John's in awe, jaw tight, eyes bright, and she reaches behind his head and pulls him down until his forehead touches her's.

"Was wondering what the big deal was with this gesture."

John smiles when he laughs - an actual smile that Kim sees, it's a little crooked and fuck, genuine happiness looks  _good_  on him, so she kisses his nose and he stills, eyes meeting her's again.

"Kim."

She kisses his mouth, gently, John makes a whining sound in his throat, pulls her towards him, remembers what Nick said the night before, kissing was allowed, but John has never wanted a woman more than Kim, wants her more than any woman he's shared a bed with, wants Nick more than any man, and it drives him to kiss her until she gently, gently, pushes at his shoulders and that fucking crooked smile is back on his face, blue eyes meeting her's, bright and  _clear_.

John stands up straight and when she hugs him, he freezes for a moment before kissing the shaved part of her head, and the warmth in his stomach is almost overwhelming, he holds her head to his chest and she smiles when she hears his heart, a reminder that he is human after all.

Nick finds them like that, presses his hand to the small of John's back where the scars aren't so severe, kisses the back of John's neck that hits a spot just right, raising goosebumps along his nape and down his arms.

"We love you, John. Stay, okay?"

John feels like the ache in his chest is going to kill him, he whispers  _yes, I'll stay,_ laughs when Nick groans out how much he fucking hates that word. 

"Maybe I'll teach your daughter that for her first word."

"You better fucking not."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm absolutely *in love* with this ship.  
> I may turn this into a series with snippets of these three.


End file.
